We Have Each Other's Backs
by OnTheOutsideLookingIn
Summary: RM and SS. What if after Ryan left to be with Theresa and the baby, Marissa realized that she was pregnant, too? Well, Marissa and Summer only know one thing... They have each other's backs.
1. Default Chapter

Summary: A "What-if?" fic. What if Marissa had been pregnant too, right after Ryan left to be with Theresa? How would it have affected everything?

Disclaimer: I don't own The O.C. or Theresa, Summer, Seth, Ryan, Marissa, Sandy Kirsten, Caleb, Jimmy, Julie, or any of the other characters I choose to use. I do, however, own this idea.

Prologue: Teardrops

Teardrops. That's what she would call them when we were younger. Don't ask me why; it always seemed a little strange to me the way that Marissa Cooper was so obsessed with tears. "See, people give off teardrops for all different kinds of reasons, Sum," Coop would say, running a fascinated hand over the TV screen as we watched a "grown-up" movie that we'd stolen from Julie's stash. Gosh, we were only five years old, and already she was watching movies about drugs, sex, and abuse on a daily basis. Somehow, though, none of those things ever affected her. All that she ever wanted to see was what made the people cry and why. "Guess what, Sum? There are almost always only tears, not teardrops, when people are crying 'cause they're happy, but teardrops come a lot more when people are sad or angry. Why is that, Sum?" I would usually just shrug uncomfortably, hoping that Coop would suggest we go play in her backyard so that she could go back to being the Coop that she usually was, my best friend.

Anyhow, that's how I knew something was wrong when I came in. She was sitting watching The Notebook, eyes glazed over, and she murmured when she heard me, "Look, Sum, she's crying in teardrops. Why is she crying in teardrops instead of tears? I can't figure it out…" She hadn't even mentioned that word in years. It scared me that her voice was so strangely hollow, that her eyes were empty. "Coop, I know that Ryan's leaving has been hard on you. He was your first love. We're gonna get through this together though, ya know? I mean, I'll get over stupid little chicken-legged Cohen, and you can get over Mr. Broody-Pants Chino," I offered, rubbing her shoulder as I plopped down beside her on the couch. "No, we won't. I have to leave Sum. I'm in trouble. I'm in a lot of trouble," she whispered, almost conspiratorially. That's when I really wondered. I'd half-expected her to be drunk, more out of instinct and habit than anything. She was as sober as the day was long, though. Her breath was sweet, almost like cinnamon.

"What happened, Coop? We can fix it. You and me. You know that we can get through this. Don't leave. Besides, where will you go?" "I'm not sure. We can't fix it though. Do you know that alcohol harms an unborn fetus or baby? It can get all sorts of birth defects. Julie drank a glass every evening while she was pregnant with me. I guess that I lucked out, huh? Well, I'm not gonna take the chance. Who knows how much damage one drunken spree can do, but anymore…" her voice drifted off, and she absentmindedly rubbed her stomach. I felt like throwing up. "Coop, you're pregnant? You can't be. That's impossible. Ryan left over a month ago. It would be Ryan's… right?" A bitter smile played across Marissa's lips. "I might be a drunk, but I'm not a slut. Don't ask me why; it was stupid, but the night before Ryan left… I mean, I don't think I've ever seen him drunk like that before, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't more than a little tipsy myself. Too bad that I hadn't seen the need to invest in birth control that last month, huh?" I hate the hysterical laugh that follows, the sarcastic grin that twists her lips, and the way that she seems to be taking all of the insane thoughts running through her mind and phrasing it in these words.

"Why haven't you told Chino? He would come back. He loves you, not Theresa." I know that it's brutally selfish to even mention something like that to her, but I don't care. In the same way that some people have their own back, I've always had Marissa's back and she's always had mine. Theresa could go up in smoke for all I cared. Coop starts shaking her head wildly back and forth, the first real burst of anger and hurt coming out. "If he loves me so much, why did he sleep with her when we were broken up for, like a week? Why did he jump at the chance to go back to Chino and sleep with her instead of having her move her, and giving me and him a chance? WHY? JUST SOMEONE TELL ME WHY!" She screamed, and I had to jump back for a second. I hate myself for being scared, because I know that deep down she's just a hurting, vulnerable girl. Awkwardly I hold her, and she seems to calm down a little. I hadn't even noticed the hot, clear liquid making its way down my face after spilling out of my eyes until her whimpers stopped and she turned around to look at me. "Sum, you're crying teardrops!" Her voice was almost surprised. She hugged me silently before I had a chance to answer.

Presently I worked up the courage to ask her again, this time for me. "Please won't you tell Chino? If not for yourself, do it for him. It'll give him the excuse to come back to you, and then Seth will come back and Kirsten and Sandy will be happy… we'll all be here for you." I hate the look that she gives me. She gazes intently into my eyes, her own cerulean ones first reflecting a tinge of hope, but quickly leaving, being replaced only by emptiness as more teardrops make their way down her face… "You know that I can't do that. Theresa needs him, and they might actually make it. Maybe they'll be a family eventually. Seth is too fickle to stay up there after he realizes that things aren't going to change. And you, Summer, you will make it. Promise me that some day if I mail you a plane ticket that you'll come down to visit me?" With the last sentence, her voice was choked by a sob. Suddenly, none of it seemed real to me. I noticed only little things: the movie playing on, the voices strangely loud. The hardly noticeable split ends which I would have to fix soon when I went to get my hair styled. Marissa's imperfect nails, jagged from days of biting. The frayed ends of the scarf I'd quickly thrown on my hair before leaving. The strange feeling of the fabric in the sweatshirt and sweatpants set that Coop was wearing. Then, my gaze rested on her stomach. I noticed that smallest of scars from where she'd gotten her bellybutton pierced when we were thirteen. We'd never told anyone, but after a few weeks they started to get infected, so we got them treated and let them close up. It was in that instant, as I gaze down at the sliver of skin exposed, picturing it bulging with the added baby, that I truly lost hope and gave in. With a slight nod, she hugged me again.

I helped her make the plans. Marissa was smart and had done more than a couple of things right even before the news of the baby. She'd secretly taken a G.E.D. test which she'd passed with flying colors around the time that Ryan found out that Theresa was pregnant. She never had enjoyed school. She'd started saving up her allowance instead of spending it in an effort to try to save up enough to help Theresa out… she hadn't succeeded, and the money remained fallow in her bank account. She'd already purchased a bus ticket to some godforsaken place in North Carolina, and she was supposed to leave later that day. I let her get some much-needed rest and for once in my life took care of things. I packed her favorite clothes and a couple things on the baggy side, just so that she wouldn't have to start spending a lot of money immediately on clothes. I put in her makeup bag more out of reflex than anything else, and find her traveling kit: toothpaste, toothbrush, a mini container of dental floss, a disposable razor and a small bottle of shaving cream, and a mini deodorant. I notice that The Notebook is done and take the DVD out of the player, sliding it in its case before gently putting it alongside everything else, putting her copy of the paperback book in on a whim. I have to remind myself to put her brush in, too.

When I'm done packing everything in her luggage set, I order a pizza and divide it into six Tupperware containers, two pieces in each, slipping them into her backpack. I have no idea how long pizza keeps or how long she'll be traveling, but I figure that at least this way she'll have something to help with the munchies. I include some Dramamine, knowing that the morning sickness must be starting up. I can't think of anything else. I'm done. Then, suddenly, I notice the picture of her and Ryan touching foreheads on her mirror. I like this one even more than the two of them on the ferris wheel. I slide it into the framed one in front of the ferris wheel picture so that she can keep both, and I put it in her backpack so that she will see it when she opens it up. As I zip it up, I can't help but cry. Giant sobs rack my body, and whimpers leak out before I can stop them. Instantly, Coop is beside me, going through exactly the same thing. As I look down I see tears spattering from both of us, and I can't tell whose is whose. "Look," I comment absentmindedly, "There are more teardrops."


	2. Silhouette Pictures

Summary: A "What-if?" fic. What if Marissa had been pregnant too, right after Ryan left to be with Theresa? How would it have affected everything?

Disclaimer: I don't own The O.C. or Theresa, Summer, Seth, Ryan, Marissa, Sandy Kirsten, Caleb, Jimmy, Julie, or any of the other characters I choose to use. I do, however, own this idea.

A/N: I just wanted to say that the only real guide that I'm using for this is the far-off goal of having SS and RM together, but besides that, I'm pretty much open to suggestions, and you can tell me if there's something that you really wouldn't like to see as well. Oh, and I want to apologize for the awkwardness of this chapter, but after trying a lot of different things, nothing else seemed to work out for the beginning. About two-thirds of the way through, I switch from the way I've been doing Marissa's POV and go back to normal-type writing, lol. Enjoy, and leave me comments, good or bad.

Chapter One: Silhouette Pictures

Newport is one of the most beautiful places in the world when the sun sets, yet its beauty is lost on the many who walk its streets and live in its houses. The silhouettes that play on the sidewalks at the pier look like fragments of a world long forgotten, a world that knows no sound, no emotion, no rest… only movement. Even the choppiest of actions are turned into fluid, graceful motions, and a bittersweet scene can look perfectly happy. Tonight, though, there is one shadow that doesn't belong to the streets or sidewalk, but instead to the beach itself, and it lies beside that of an old lifeguard post. The brilliantly orange sun dropping slowly and the ethereal moon soon to rise know the scene well; they have played silent spectators to it a number of times. The sun is just beginning its descent as the shadow comes forward, making its way carefully to the spot that it favors. By the time the clouds have become intoxicated with the foreign purples and blues it favors and the sun is drooping and sagging helplessly, its muse is leaning against the other shadow. With a sigh it sets, and the moon knowingly starts rising amidst the glowing and twinkling stars slowly materializing.

The sight is not quite as familiar as he might've thought, however; no small, rectangular prism emerges from the shadow's pocket, and the figurine remains in place long after the moon has begun its evening watch, instead of the usual stumbling that the normally crooked gait calls for as the shadow walks slowly away. Long wisps of hair fly along in the wind, likening to corn silk, though the shadow doesn't see this. The ocean, appearing only to be a well of blackness, sprays a salty mist, and the silhouette abruptly comes forward, its chest swelling as its arms wrap tightly against its stomach. Its shoulders begin to shake, and it is seen kneeling down, beating the ground with its fist. What a human would've looked on with concern and possibly a tinge of sadness with, the moon looks on at with nothing… for at the end of the day, the moon is simply the moon, the sand is simply the sand, and the silhouettes are simply shadows being written of fancifully. What the girl hiding behind the shadow really needs is a person to help her. That person, however, is far away in a shadow-scene of his own…

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_(Ryan) It's much easier to be a shadow than a person. I mean, shadows don't have to worry about what they do… they're not really doing anything at all, because when you think about it, they're really only an illusion created by light and objects, mimicking what real people do. No one asks a shadow to talk, asks a shadow to do what it really wants to do. It's crazy that I'm still so worried about Marissa, stuck back in Newport, when I need to be worrying about Theresa and the baby and earning enough to support them. I don't think that she'll be all right, though. It's so incredibly easy to brand her as bad news and a drunk and then move on, but that's not the truth at all… I mean, I punch people when I need to blow off steam or avoid dealing with something, and she tries to drown all her troubles in a bottle of beer. In the end, though? Well, the truth is, we both hurt people, just in different ways… and after all this time, I'm still not completely sure which is worse. _

_I don't want her to be hurt. I guess that I mean Marissa and Theresa. I assumed that fatherhood would make me more mature, would give me the emotion, the passion that I needed to love Theresa more than anyone else, but it didn't. I don't want to be a bad guy. For the first time in my life, though, I'm not sure if it's worth it. Back in the old days, before I'd even ever met Sandy Cohen, I used to think that If I just had a chance than I would do everything the right way, I would work my way through college, I would do well, and I would GET somewhere… I didn't care where, exactly, just as long as it was far away from my mother's drinking and my brother's thieving and my own inability to open up to people… I didn't realize that I would never leave that behind. _

_Marissa helped me to leave it behind, though. Somehow or other, she drew it out of me. It felt awkward and wrong, and most days I wished that she would just leave well enough alone… until it was gone. Then suddenly I found myself wishing that she was there, to prod me just enough to get under my skin but not so much that I lost my cool, to help me tell her what I needed to tell someone but didn't know how to without constantly bugging me about things that didn't really matter. I miss her smile, and the way that when she turned her head and smiled at me, for a moment I would forget that we were still in Newport with Caleb and Julie and everything that got in our way, and I would think that she and I had finally escaped to someplace where we could be together and no one could stop us, where she could teach me more about talking and I could teach her more about accepting what we can't change. _

_For the first time in my life, though, I'm not quite willing to let go of people who are important to me, excusing it as a part of life. I want to fight back, to somehow fix things up so that Theresa never had to go through this, so that I never had to mess up everything with the Cohens, Seth especially, and so that I never had to hurt Marissa. Because she's been hurt more than enough, in some ways even more so than I have, I think. Our fathers both committed a crime, but instead of it costing her seeing her dad altogether, she lost him bit by bit to Julie and Caleb. I never knew what it was like to have a real family; she did. No one ever expected much of anything out of me; people expected her to be cool and pretty and smart and popular… all she ever wanted to do was have a chance to be a hurting, vulnerable girl in need of someone to hold her until the pain was gone. For some strange reason, I was able to do that for her, and she was able to do it for me too. It was never about taking away the anger or the pain; it was about knowing that whether or not one of us knew what the other was going through, we would hurt with them and let them know that WE weren't running away… no one else could say that truthfully._

_I still remember all of our late-night meetings in the pool house. Most of the time I wouldn't even turn on a light; it would somehow take away from what we were doing. I remember our shadows on the wall, hearing her laughter, the way it seemed to be appropriate for a response to a joke or a response to pleasure, or even just because she was happy. It would sooth me and blow my mind at the same time. I didn't understand how she could be this person that I'd fallen in love with in those moments, when everyone else besides possibly Summer saw her as a bitter, angry whore who didn't care about anyone else. She can be selfish; I'm not denying it. I just think that when it comes down to it, we're all selfish at one point or another, and it's just getting to the point where we can be selfless when it counts that matters. She was selfless, too; so selfless that I wished that she would be at least a little more selfish. _

_It's a funny thing, looking at the shadow on the side wall of Theresa and I in bed together. She's so far away from me, and I'm practically leaning away from her… I don't even know if it's my baby, but I'm here, pretty much as close as I can get. I just can't figure out what I can do to make it so that I don't feel like I'm a million miles away…_

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"Last call for Ashville, North Carolina," the announcer boomed. A tall, slim figure ran up, conversing with the driver. He helped her put her luggage in the compartments beneath the bus, taking the thin flap of paper she handed him. Inside of the bus, the filmy gray silhouette moved slowly to the back, cringing at the jeers of the others on the bus. Sitting down uneasily in the last row, right near the bathroom, the wisp of a girl settled in, awkwardly looking for a way to rest and get to sleep. Finally leaning her head back against the sturdy frame of the chair, the shadow was steady along the wall, even as that of the bus moved along, slowly at first and then faster, until it was far, far away from everything in Newport and rolling into the night.

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As much as I hate to admit it, Sum was right. Paying an extra two hundred for a plane ticket would've been a lot more comfortable and time-effective. The suggestive looks and catcalls from some of the sleaze-buckets on here had me crawling in my skin all night. Sum was an angel, packing all of my stuff for me. The pizza, though, will probably go fuzzy and green long before I can stomach anything. That blessed part of my body seems set on dancing around and doing the jig in my stomach. Thankfully, I didn't have to rush into the bathroom like I'd feared last night, and instead I was able to focus on trying to get to sleep… the only thing that I could focus on was the memories, though. There are so many of them, so many things that I'd forgotten for so long but can't suppress anymore…

_Marissa was only nine years old and it was incredibly hard, getting to sleep tonight. She was used to storms in Newport once in awhile, but this still took the cake… all that she could think about was stopping herself from running into Mommy and Daddy's room. Se might interrupt one of their fights, and she hated watching them when they were like that. Sometimes they were about her, and sometimes they were about school or money or her little sister, Caitlin. Right now, though, she could make out the sound of soft laughter down the hallway. Another bolt of thunder made the decision for her; she got up and padded down the hallway. She didn't think to stop until she reached the door._

"_Are you sure that your husband won't find out?"_

"_He's not home, he won't have any idea. He's away on one of those stupid business trips again. Of course, if he wasn't, then we wouldn't get to spend all this time together, now would we?"_

"_That's right. I just… I'm worried, Julie. I work for your husband. I can't lose my job."_

"_Sh… don't talk like that. Besides, quiet down, you don't want Marissa to hear you, do you? Now, where were we?"_

_The door was slightly open, and peaking through the cracks, Marissa saw the scene unfolding in the shadows dancing on the walls and ceiling. Her eyes were wide as she tried to fathom why her mother was doing this, this THING that adults did, with some man who wasn't her daddy and who wasn't supposed to be in her room. Distantly she realized that it was adultery, that her father wasn't supposed to ever find out. Less distantly, all she could focus on was walking slowly back to her room. _

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_Getting her first period strategically on the first day of gym class was bad enough. Being in the same gym class as hottie Luke Ward when you had your period and couldn't keep your composure was even worse. Her side was cramping, and as she made her way towards the bleachers, she walked straight into a running Luke. "Woah, sorry about that. I should've seen you." He gave her a winning grin and shrugged. "Umm, no, I should've umm... umm... I'm Marissa. You must be Luke," she said, giving up and holding her hand out, feeling like an idiot. No one shook hands anymore when they met someone. He smiled and took her hand, then backed up into a jog, shouting out, "I'll see you around Marissa." Eighth grade had just gotten considerably better. _

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_She couldn't think. She didn't want to think. She was sick of being rejected by some know-it-all from Chino who thought that he could come into her life and turn it upside down. She knew that that wasn't the truth, that there were reasons… she didn't want to think about the reasons, though, she just wanted comfort. _

"_Marissa? What are you doing here?"_

"_I'm ready, Luke."_

"_What… what are you talking about, Marissa?"_

"_I know that it's been awful for you, having me say no so many times and you having to try to pressure me to go further… but I'm ready now. Let's do it right now."_

"_What about my parents. What about…"_

"_Screw everything else. This is right. I know it. Please, Luke."_

"_Okay."_

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"_Ryan, I've never seen you drunk before! It's a whole new side of you!" she whispered, kissing his neck absentmindedly. _

"_Well, you know, it isn't every day that you leave town for a kid you might not have fathered. You've gotta pack in the booze before undertaking that, right?" he questioned, running his hands through his hair. Marissa's formerly clouded mind was quickly clearing, and she hated it. She wanted to keep on going, to never lose Ryan and her like this, together, with nothing, not even their insecurities or the real world, between them. She'd never seen him like this, and it partially made her sad, but it also comforted her. Without thinking about it, she kissed him._

_She hadn't expected him to kiss her back. She hadn't expected them to go so far either. Or maybe, maybe she had known, but she'd tried to convince herself that it was just an innocent goodbye kiss. It wasn't, though. She was falling, the blood was rushing through her veins at light speed, and she heard a roaring sound in her ears. Ryan… that was all that she could think about. She needed more of him, no matter what the cost. She needed him to be there. _

_Eventually, Ryan fell asleep. She doubted that he would remember much when he woke up considering the beer bottles littering the floor. It was best if she left now, if she never looked back… she bent down and kissed his head, holding back a sob as she padded quietly next door, showering and getting dressed, hating herself for having been so weak. _

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_He was driving away in a car. He looked over at her, and Marissa stared at him. The way that he gazed at her, his eyes seemed to scream "I remember. I know what happened, and I hate you for letting me do it. I hate myself for wanting it to never be over, for us to always be together, even more. I don't want to leave you, but I don't have any choice." She stared back at him, trying to make him see, trying to make him understand how much she loved him. He was too far gone now, though. _

_Hours later, she stood drinking from a small tin flask, holding her hand over he mouth, fighting back tears. It wasn't supposed to end like this… but since when did anything ever end the right way?_

_It wasn't until over a month later that she realized she was late. _

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"Unloading for Ashville, North Carolina," the driver said into the microphone, and Marissa walked down the steps, thanking the man who retrieved her luggage. She had to close her eyes and steady herself for a moment as a wave of nausea came over her, then opened them and moved slowly on. She had no idea where to go, no idea who to ask for help, and she had never felt so lonely, despite the small being forming inside of her.


End file.
